to, Archie," said I, "it merely means that a woman
considers all hours wasted which she does not spend in the society of
her husband."

"Oh, come, you don't gammon me," said Archie. "It means that the sun
don't shine unless it's fine, you know."

Archie delivered this remarkable discovery in a tone of great self
satisfaction.

"Oh, you dear old thing!" said Dolly.

"Well, it does you know," said he.

There was a pause. Archie kissed his wife (I am not complaining; he has,
of course, a perfect right to kiss his wife) and strolled away toward
the hothouses.

I lit another cigarette. Then Dolly, pointing to the stem of the dial,
cried:

"Why, here's another inscription--oh, and in English?"

She was right. There was another--carelessly scratched on the old
battered column--nearly effaced, for the characters had been but lightly
marked--and yet not, as I conceived from the tenor of the words, very
old.

"What is it?" asked Dolly, peering over my shoulder, as I bent down to
read the letters, and shading her eyes with her hand. (Why didn't she
put on her hat? We touch the Incomprehensible.)

"It is," said I, "a singularly poor, shallow, feeble, and undesirable
little verse."

"Read it out," said Dolly.

So I read it. The silly fellow had written:

Life is Love, the poets tell us, In the little books they sell us; But
pray, ma'am--what's of Life the Use, If Life be Love? For Love's the
Deuce.

Dolly began to laugh gently, digging the pin again into her hat.

"I wonder," she said, "whether they used to come and sit by this old
dial just as we did this morning!"

"I shouldn't be at all surprised," said I. "And another point occurs to
me, Lady Mickleham."

"Oh, does it? What's that, Mr. Carter?"

"Do you think that anybody measured the rain gauge!"

Dolly looked at me very gravely.

"I'm so sorry when you do that," said she pathetically.

I smiled.

"I really am," said dolly. "But you don't mean it, do you?"

"Certainly not," said I.

Dolly smiled.

"No more than he did!" said I, pointing to the sun dial.

And then we both smiled.

"Will this hour count, Mr. Carter?" asked Dolly, as she turned away.

"That would be rather strict," said I.

A REMINISCENCE

"I know exactly what your mother wants, Phyllis," observed Mrs. Hilary.

"It's just to teach them the ordinary things," said little Miss Phyllis.

"What are the ordinary things?" I ventured to ask.

"What all girls are taught,